


Cabin Boy

by downthepub (Finnspiration)



Category: Top Gear (UK) RPF
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-10
Updated: 2020-10-10
Packaged: 2021-03-07 17:49:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 676
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26921671
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Finnspiration/pseuds/downthepub
Summary: Episode related ficlet: Richard's thoughts as he and James sail during an amphibious challenge.
Kudos: 3





	Cabin Boy

**Author's Note:**

> originally posted here: https://topgearslash.livejournal.com/1789028.html

  
  
**Cabin Boy**  
  
  
James loves this. Even though he’s reduced to the role of cabin boy, a big downgrade from the height of the command of his own sailing vessel, he loves this. He still has all his nautical words to flash about.  
  
I commandingly (if teasingly) tell him to get the tea, and he agrees, wearing that happy, nerdy little smile he gets for anything to do with the sea. I suppose he reads a lot of Patrick O’Brian books and watches old sailing movies and things. He knows all the terms—or pretends to—and wants to show off how well he’s learnt them.  
  
He fetches the tea and we drink it, swaying with the rhythm of the sea, the sea, the sea. I love it, too, if I'm honest. It’s beautiful out here. Scary, but beautiful.  
  
Jeremy is ahead. We can’t catch him unless he fails. Not that I want him to fail. Well. Not _really_ fail. Not ‘die horribly’ fail, but perhaps fail enough so that I have to come back for him this time, and he can’t bloody smirk.  
  
James is telling me something now about the weather, the clouds. He holds his mug carefully, his hair a mess. He still looks so very happy, looking really a bit silly in his wet suit, as I do, I suppose.  
  
I admit it: I’m not completely paying attention to him as I try to drive, drink tea, and keep an eye on the water traffic and Jezza’s progress. But James is there beside me, telling me, and somehow the careful drone of sophisticated knowledge (even if he’s made up half of it and I never find out), is reassuring and comfortable.  
  
Sometimes when it’s just like this, me and James versus Jeremy, there’s a sort of peaceful quality that descends. We don’t have to joke so hard, to deflect the attention from ourselves, or defend ourselves from Jezza’s lunacy. James gets buffeted sometimes. Jeremy and I get each other going, poking fun at any agreed upon target or seeing who can out-talk each other, our voices getting louder and louder as we argue; we enjoy it, but it’s wearing sometimes. When it’s just James and me, we sort of become a team, relaxing into it without thinking. Doesn’t make for very good television, I suppose, but there it is, and it does make for a nice break between bouts with or against Jezza.  
  
“More tea, Captain?” asks James in a jaunty voice, his head bobbing slightly and to the side with his smile. He’s really got the sea in his blood today.  
  
I can’t help but smile back. “Yes, thank you, Captain,” I reply, using part of his nickname for good, for once. I hold out my mug regally, standing as tall as I can.  
  
I have to do that around these men, who are both taller than me and older and so often smarter, pushing me to be better just to keep up with them, and making me stronger in the process. But I love a good challenge, or sometimes a bad one.  
  
“Extra sugar, keep up our strength,” I add, in a slightly pompous voice, smiling up at him.  
  
“Right-o.” He ducks and goes below. In a few moments, I hear things banging around inside over the sound of the water and the wind.  
  
I wonder if we can catch up to ram Jezza’s truck-boat. The sun glints off the waves, and it’s windy. I hope none of us will be seasick. It would probably fly back in our faces.  
  
For a moment, I’m really glad I’m with James and not Jezza, even though I know that feeling will pass soon enough if he blinds me with too many more nautical terms or sea shanties or what-have-you.  
  
But right now, for just this moment if no other, it’s really rather wonderful to be sailing with my mate across the English Channel. It’s a mad, mad challenge, and I’m more than a little nervous. But we’ll be all right. We always are.  
  



End file.
